


Hello, friend

by lupininspired



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, POV Remus Lupin, Pre-Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lupininspired/pseuds/lupininspired
Summary: Remus is lonely and hurt after what happened on Halloween 1981. He tries to move on.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Hello, friend

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my girl Lena whose love for Remus is my constant inspiration.

Hello, friend.  
Well, where do I start?   
How do people do that?  
I am so used to being alone, I feel like I’m starting to forget how to communicate with actual people. So here’s my attempt to not lose my mind. Or have I lost it already? Big question. No answers.  
Where are you, my friend?  
Let’s pretend you really do exist. It’s better for both of us to think that way. It will help me feeling less alone (hopefully). And you will get a chance to really exist. How cool is that? To be honest, you will need to find someone else to tell you about the beauty of life. I’m not the best at that. Wonder why? Well, life isn’t particularly friendly towards me. I have no idea why she doesn’t like me so much, but here I am. You could’ve understood already how miserable I am. I am talking to imaginary friend, for God’s sake.  
How is your day so far?  
Mine is shitty, as always. I got fired from my job again. There wasn’t any explanation other than a petty pat on the shoulder and a muffled “sorry”. As if that “sorry” gonna help me get food and pay my rent somehow. Don’t think so.  
Sometimes I wonder if people do know about my condition. Seems like they do. But they don’t. Unless they somehow figure it out. I have no idea.  
I would love to be confident in Tomorrow. Like I was when I was younger and… And all of them were by my side. I was so young and in love with life. I was constantly dizzy and drunk with my own thoughts and dreams. That felt really good.   
Tell me, do you still remember feeling young?  
I’m only 27 but feel like so much older. I’m tired of moving, of thinking if I would get a chance to eat tomorrow, of being so lonely and so hurt.  
They were so young.   
How do I stop thinking about them? How do I stop imagining what our lives would be like if only they were here?   
Pathetic.  
People say that time heals. Guess, time has got no time to heal me. Maybe it’s too busy healing everybody else. Or maybe it thinks I’m good on my own. How fucking wrong. Do I look like someone who is doing great?  
Stop.  
I need to stop.  
I need to remember them but I have to let them go.  
They are not here. They are not here for so long.  
Have you ever lost someone, my friend?  
I hope not. That’s too painful. I don’t want you to be hurt like that.   
Will you be here tomorrow? Tomorrow is a new day, right? I am not the type to believe that tomorrow holds something good, but sometimes I want to be that innocent, that naïve. Let’s be naïve together?   
I need someone to talk to. You are a good listener.  
Well, you don’t have a choice. You have to travel with me. Without me you will fade away. Yeah, sorry, we made a deal to pretend that you really do exist. Make your choice, then.  
I wonder if my life will always be this way. I’m so tired of trying to find happiness and safety. They, clearly, are running away from me.   
Oh God, I would love to feel a little bit of happiness again.   
Like those summer nights so many years ago, when it smells like rain, when it’s almost midnight but the sky is bright like it’s still daytime. When you lay down on your fresh sheets and look through the mirror on birds busy with their own business. When it feels like there is no pain in the world and full moon will come in two weeks. Two weeks felt like a lifetime then. Oh, to lie there and be happy to feel alive, listening to foreign songs where you don’t understand a single word but know for a fact what they are about.   
Sorry. I got carried away.  
We need to keep going. Maybe if I keep trying, something good will happen. Who knows.   
Stay with me. I love your company.   
And you can call me Remus, my friend.


End file.
